This morning I was wide-awake at 3:36 am and although I wanted to get another hour of sleep (my usual waking time in 4:30 am) I couldn’t. My mind was racing with my day’s schedule, planning new programs for my business, websites, coaching clients and last, but not least, all of the personal chores piling on my plate.

After spending a couple early morning hours working on my new website, I could feel that I was getting more revved up. Not a good thing when I have 5 coaching clients today where I want to be grounded and centered. I have an idea. Maybe if I went for a quick run before my first client, I would get rid of this chatter and feel more relaxed. But, it wasn’t to be.

As I’m hiking up our driveway, I see a sea of dandelions sprouting up all over the lawn and garden; the grass is looking sad and undernourished; the tiles are falling off the face of our patio; and our cedar windows need staining. Wow. The tension is no less than when I left for my run.

I finally said…that’s enough! I hate this feeling of overwhelm. As soon as I was aware of how I was feeling, it was one simple question to get back on track: what can I do to feel a little bit better right now?

Can you imagine–1 question, and 3 simple steps to shut down the hamster wheel:

1. Slowed down my walking pace (I have broken too many toes and ankles from being in a hurry you would think I would know better)
2. Imagined Gold pouring over my head like a rain shower washing away the yucky stuff/worries filling my head and going down a drain away from my body
3. Focused on my breath and feeling it go in through my nose, down to my lower belly and then out.

Thirty seconds is all it took to ground and return myself to feeling balanced. By the time I walked into my office I was feeling refreshed and ready to start my day helping people transform their lives.

Earlier this week I went through a painful experience involving our 8-month old kitten, Henry. He is the sweetest, most innocent cat eg. he doesn’t draw a claw when you rub his tummy although he doesn’t really like it. So when he ran away on Wednesday afternoon, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t think he had the survival skills to escape the coyotes, or to survive our freezing nights; he has been pampered with fluffy beds, premium cat food, and even a litter box with the highest-grade cat litter.

We adopted Henry from the SPCA in the winter, and shortly before we had rescued a ginger boy, Clive, who arrived at my daughter’s house desperate for food and love. These little creatures are a big part of my life. You might say that I’m over-the-top cat lover. I can’t believe how much comfort and company they give me and are definitely filling the void as my husband’s dementia progresses.

Despite a very busy life—personally and professionally, these cats help me to stay balanced or grounded. But what a wakeup call this week. I noticed that when one area of my life is out of whack, it has a huge impact on the other areas: health (wasn’t eating or sleeping well); relationships (wasn’t my usual chatty self with my family and didn’t have as much patience with Dave); work (lacked the spark while coaching my clients); and finances (wasn’t feeling motivated to schedule Discovery sessions for my new Money Breakthrough Mastery Program). The only thing I seemed to be good at was either crying or put cold compresses over my eyes before I saw my next client. I was definitely off-balance.

I understand that the universe gives you these experiences for a reason.  As Byron Katie says, “Life is simple. Everything happens for you, not to you. Everything happens at exactly the right moment, neither too soon nor too late. You don’t have to like it… it’s just easier if you do”

By the 2^nd night, I was able to sleep because I was doing my best to live in the present moment. There was no evidence that a predator snatched Henry or that he wasn’t tough enough to live for a few days in the wild. I was allowing myself to work through the pain and restore balance to my life. I was beginning to feel lighter.

And then the miracle happened. At 4:10 am while making coffee and cuddling with Clive, I hear a sound at the back door. I see a black blob in the corner of the door window and think that I’m seeing a ghost. When I opened the door and Henry came strolling through with his bright pink bell collar (jokingly had called it the coyote dinner bell), it was one of the best moments of my life—aside from when our kids were born.

So what did I gain this week? I learned how important it is to be in touch with your emotions so that it is easier to course correct. It is also important to feel into the pain because it will eventually subside. Running away from the pain, or hiding from it, doesn’t work. It’s like a beach ball under water and eventually the emotions pop through the surface. This is what happened to me 3 ½ years ago when I finally faced my reality—caregiving and bouncing back financially from a mess that I created.

Maintaining a balance in your life is possible but as I said, it takes awareness and work. One simple question helps..”okay, what’s one thing I can do to feel a little better?” And your journey will continue with each new experience.

It is important to know my history but I won’t write about it here (the full story will come out in bits and pieces over the next several months). The bit of information that is critical is that until 3 years ago, I had done well in managing my finances—achieving financial freedom by age 47 with investment properties and a large retirement savings plan. Within a few months in 2009, all of our retirement savings crashed in foreclosures and illegal Ponzi schemes.

You can imagine the outrage from my ‘inner critic’…how could you be this stupid? Why didn’t you get out when you saw the red flags? How are you going to support your husband, Dave, and you, as his dementia progresses? The list of judgments is extensive and the personal beating has gone on for 3 years. I have NEVER been more terrified or ashamed in my life and now it is time to come clean. The weight of the buried secret is too much to carry around and I’m tired of it.

When I made a decision to ‘bounce-back financially’ I didn’t know the ‘how’–only that I trusted that I could do it. As long as I committed to taking baby steps (just like when I reached a low point in caring for Dave), I would be able to rebuild. Many months and several money/mindset/personal growth courses later, I am happy to say that I’m not only filling up bank account, but also my self-worth bank account. As one of my mentors, Kendall Summerhawk, says…”how you do money is how you do everything”.

I believe that if I had not gone through this financial crisis that I would have continued pretending that life was okay despite the challenges of caring for my husband. I would have continued to journey alone, stuck in my ‘poor me’ story, and hiding at home. I would have had the money to hire gardeners, and personal assistants, to help me but inside I would be laden with secrets of how I was really doing—feeling lonely, resentful, & empty–without a purpose. Instead, the pain of this ‘hidden’ story has forced me to turn my life around where I am discovering more self-love, compassion, and forgiveness for myself and therefore of others.

I want to thank you for your loyalty in following my blogs and to let you know that my focus is expanding beyond caregiving. It will spread to those people who are holding on to their own secrets in the area of finances. I will share the strategies (practically and spiritually) that are allowing me to worry less about my future, sleep better at night, and laugh more than cry.

I love this quote by an unknown author; “whenever God closes one door he always opens another, even though sometimes it’s hell in the hallway”. Yes, it has been hell but I am here to say that I am proudly walking through another door…and it is definitely better than the one that closed behind me!

Note: if any of my story sounds familiar and you would like to learn a couple of strategy tips to help yourself, I would love to meet you on one of my complimentary ‘Strategy’ sessions (fill out the box on the first page). Please know that there are no obligations to me–only to yourself.

The next morning he wakes up at his usual 6:57 am and comes out of the bedroom with a big smile. He knows what this day means. After eating breakfast and doing a couple of his honey-do chores–filling the bird feeders and cleaning the dishes (needs constant reminders of helping me out)–he packs his bag for the big 50 km. trek into town.

As Dave is putting on his running shoes, he looks like he has just won the lottery. I wanted to capture this feeling so I grabbed my camera and followed him outside. As he is wheeling his bike along the sidewalk, I tell him to have a great day.  “I will–I’m already having fun”. Wow…simple pleasures, yet I get it. Dave’s bike is his ticket to freedom.

Two and a half years ago, Dave handed in his driver’s license. His dementia had progressed to the point where he was no longer safe on the roads. Unfortunately he didn’t agree. He didn’t understand why he shouldn’t be gazing at the moon over his left shoulder while driving in the wrong lane on a blind corner. After the doctor gave him the news that he was no longer licensed to drive, he was mad for a few days. “The doctors can’t do this to me! Don’t they know how much I love to drive?”

But here’s another reason why Dave is one of my greatest teachers. He didn’t stay stuck in his story. Within weeks, he had changed his story to…”okay, I can’t drive (even though he had to walk by his parked truck every day until it was sold) so I’ll find out about the bus schedules, I’ll ask people to drive me to town, I’ll start riding my bike. I remember the relief when Dave asked me if it was okay for him to be on the road on his bike. He wasn’t sure if the government would take his bike license away as well.

Postscript: After saying good-bye to Dave this morning, I came inside the house to tell my sister what Dave said. Her only comment was…”how do you bottle that kind of fun?” Dave’s got it figured out: he accepts the things he can’t change, has the courage to change the things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Yes, I know what that feels like because 3 years ago I found myself swirling around in a pool of massive pain. Or should I say I was STUCK in my story…I was only 55 and my Mom and sister had recently passed away, my husband was diagnosed with early-onset dementia, and the clincher…our retirement savings (aside from Dave’s reduced teacher’s pension) was lost in high-risk investments. Oh boy, did I have a story.

But one day I was riding my bike when I had a big ‘moment’… who am I without my story? Who am I if I don’t have my poor-me tale to hide behind–an excuse not to go out with friends, a reason for not laughing and having fun, and a reason to gain sympathy and attention from others. I started sobbing because it was scary thinking about being stripped of how I was defining myself.

Later that week while making dinner, I had a bigger ‘flash’; one that was the tipping point for releasing my pain. I realized for the first time that I’m not trapped in my role as a caregiver. I’m free to walk out the front door and have someone else take care of Dave. I am free to choose to stay stuck, or to move forward. My reality is that my husband has dementia and I’m starting over financially in my 50s. It isn’t how I expected life to be but unless I surrendered to the facts, then I wouldn’t be able to move forward and find answers to my challenges.

It’s very interesting looking backwards because how I got unstuck is similar to Iyanla’s advice on Oprah. She says there are 3 ways:

#1 Tell the truth—what do you want and what are you willing to do; and not willing to do?

Answer for me: I told the truth about my reality and I committed to taking baby steps (exercise, meditate, life coaching…) to help me live a better life. I wasn’t willing to settle for a life filled with sadness, and I wasn’t willing to wish this phase of my life over.

#2 Ask for what you want

Answer for me: I wanted more peace,  and the feeling of joy when I jump out of bed while being grounded in my reality.

#3 Have a vision

Answer for me: My vision is that more family caregivers will realize they have a choice and that it’s possible to live a rich, peaceful life despite your circumstances. Since I have discovered ways  to reclaim my life–better than before–I want to share and teach others how to live it themselves.

Please note: if you are a family caregiver and you are feeling ‘lost’ or depleted by your circumstances, I would love to help you out. It’s as simple as signing up for my Complimentary Strategy session in the box above. The beauty is…it’s your choice!

This morning I was listening to a class on Money Manifesting Mastery by Andrea Hess and she said that every time you do something new, or out of your comfort zone, your ego will try to keep you safe by sabotaging your efforts. Maybe not at first, but as you persist in creating new habits, there will be feelings of self-doubt, fears of failure, worries of what other people think, procrastination–anything that will convince you to go back to the safety of your old patterns. This is part of our biological makeup and is meant to keep us safe from the lions and tigers. Unfortunately the resistance barrier of moving to the next level in our life forces us to retreat. And then we wonder why we never reach our goals, or why our lives don’t change.

Last month I traveled to Los Angeles for a course with Suzanne Evans and I realized it was time to make significant changes. If I want to create a life of my dreams for my family and me, then I need to stop being a HO (hobbyist owner) and commit to being a BO (business owner). One of the first steps is to let go of trying to do everything perfect. This blog is a good example. I haven’t posted in over 2 months because I would write, edit, write, edit and maybe 3 days later I would have a post good enough for people to read. Well, it is time to stop it because if I’m going to be a BO, I can’t afford to spend 3 days on a blog.

So how much do I want to change? Enough to get up every morning and “just do it”—despite my feelings of self-doubt, worries that my life will become too busy, and wondering what people will say when I commit to public speaking and doing workshops. If I want to move to the next level in my business, then I must continue to do things that I have never done, in order to get what I’ve never had. Every action out of my comfort zone will be better than no action at all.

It is 4:45 a.m., my absolute favorite time of the day. I am sitting with my tea, a book and a little ‘ginger boy’ named Clive snuggling (and purring) on my chest. Two months ago this skinny 5-month old kitten showed up on our daughter, Amy’s doorstep looking for affection.  She said he was more interested in staying in her arms than eating food. As it has turned out, we adopted him from Amy. We thought Clive needed a buddy so we rescued another little guy, Henry from a shelter. He is 16-weeks old (or thereabouts) and jet-black with the most adorable round face and silkiest fur. He is sound asleep on my lap with his legs wrapped around one of my thighs.

As I’m enjoying the feeling of these warm bodies and the silence of the morning, I can feel myself becoming emotional. Tears are quietly falling. I don’t want to scare or wake up these precious little creatures so I’m doing my best not to sob. But why the tears? What’s being triggered inside? Then I knew the answer…

Five years ago my husband Dave was diagnosed with Frontotemporal dementia (FTD). He was 57 and I was 53. FTD is a condition that begins in the front of the brain (emotional control) and side ( language centers).  Over the years Dave is slowly withdrawing into his own world—a world I don’t fully understand. Unfortunately his sensory system has gone awry and he is hypersensitive to touch and hearing. There’s no hand-holding or passionate kisses. No more putting my cold feet on his warm legs at night. And no more of those wonderful, ‘it’s okay I’ll take care of you‘ hugs.

I knew I missed body-to-body contact but I didn’t realize how much until this morning. For the past 7 weeks I have been carrying, rocking, &  snuggling these 2 little stray kittens into my neck. It feels so good to feel their warm fur against my skin. It seems they are filling my void for physical touch. Whenever I see a couple holding hands, kissing, or hugging tightly (not just a peck on the cheek and pat on the back) it reminds me of what I have lost with Dave .

There’s nothing I can do to change my reality. Dave’s dementia is what it is. But what I can do is savor every moment with these precious little creatures. I will be forever grateful for the day they came into my life. It’s no accident. I needed some physical lovin’ and the universe delivered big time. Thank you for the best stray kittens who give the BEST heart-and-neck hugs in the world!

Meet our precious Clive & Henry: (do you think they like a little lovin’ too?)

This past week I had one of life’s many lessons in dealing with my husband Dave. He has Frontotemporal dementia and as it progresses, he is less motivated to do any activities outside of his jigsaw puzzles or exercise. I’m glad that he is still capable of doing these activities but the reality is that I need help to maintain a house, garden, pets, and car while I work full-time.

As Dave’s physical and mental abilities change, so does his honey-do list. There are a few jobs that I am holding firm and don’t want to put on my list. One of them is plowing our steep driveway with the ATV & snowblade.

Last Sunday we had our first snowfall and I asked Dave to clear the snow. He said he couldn’t do because it was still snowing. I could count the snowflakes and there was less than 1 mm of additional snow. He would do it in the morning so I let it go. Monday came and went. So did Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday…filled with excuses. By Friday I was losing my patience. I begged him to do it before I left for a 24-hour visit with my sister. I didn’t want him operating machinery while I was away. Once again he decided NOT to do it and went for a nap instead. I could feel the anger building and as silly as it sounds, I wondered if I could physically force him onto the ATV. After he shut the bedroom door, I realized that I was more upset because I couldn’t control this situation than I was about the snow and ice on our driveway. It’s funny how life lessons keep slamming me in my face. After relaxing my shoulders, taking several breaths, and gaining a different perspective, I remembered the Serenity prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference”.  Boy…it only took me 5 days to remember this one!

What did I learn this week?

#1 I can’t control circumstances and people outside of me; only my response to it. It seems that I need to be reminded of this often. How easily I forget.

#2 Recognize when I am struggling against something/situation (feel the tension in my head and neck) and ask myself…”how can it get any better?” In this case, I will hire a teenager in the neighborhood to help me out.

#3 Step back and observe my reaction; breathe, and ask myself “what is the worst case scenario, if our driveway doesn’t get plowed?” Puts my drama in perspective.

#4 Dave isn’t acting this way to push my buttons. I’m allowing them to be pushed. As Steve Chandler says “focus on strengthening the inside of focusing so much on what is missing from the outside”.

#5 Life is full of challenges and every experience (good or bad) teaches me something. Not obvious at first but after the tension (and drama) settles down, it becomes clearer.

But being diagnosed with dementia is different. When we left the doctor’s office 5 years ago after my husband, Dave, was diagnosed with Frontotemporal dementia, we were given NO hope. No hope for treatment, certainly no hope for a cure, and no ‘game plan’ on living a quality of life with this disease. We are in the new generation of baby boomers living with dementia.

I recently watched a Larry King Special on Alzheimer’s and it definitely wasn’t an uplifting program. But then what did I expect from a program on CNN where pain and suffering make headlines? Anyways, I learned a few things such as how little money goes into research for this brain condition. Larry said that 5 Billion dollars is spent on cancer research and 6 Billion dollars on AIDS compared to 500 Million on Alzheimer’s. There are 5.4 million people with Alzheimer’s in the United States. Not sure if that is all people with dementia or the most common form–alzheimer’s. And there are over 15 million unpaid primary caretakers.

The epidemic of the century. If people weren’t afraid or paranoid about getting Alzheimer’s before this program they might be now. The picture isn’t pretty. I realize that I am not dealing with the end-stage of dementia but my experience has been a personally growing and eye-opening one. I wouldn’t trade the lessons and insights that I am gaining for my life before Dave was diagnosed. Sure I am experiencing losses every day–but my gains are greater. They are greater because I am stepping back and looking at the person I”m becoming. The one with more patience when I’m in a traffic jam, or with the 20 tele-prompts before I speak with a human being on the phone, or with flights that are cancelled due to bad weather. When I’m riding my bike I’m not in a hurry like I used to be. I love to stop and feed alfalfa to the horses–savoring their ‘horsey’ smell and the feel of their soft noses as I kiss them.

I am learning (from Dave & practice) to live more in the present moment instead of worrying about how fast Dave is going to progress, or how I will handle it. I am more aware of little things like the beautiful sound of our cat purring, or the 2 blooming roses that escaped being eaten by deer. I have learned how to quiet the chatter in my mind by meditating for a few minutes in the morning, or by being aware of my breath throughout the day. Our neighbours, friends and family help me with the chores around the house because they feel good and don’t expect anything in return. For the first time in my life I can feel joy and peace without it being a sunny day or having loads of money in the bank. What a gift to feel this peaceful; a gift that didn’t happen overnight and not without lots of tears and inner work.

From the outside, living with ‘D’, seems horrific but there is more to this picture than is portrayed in the media. I realize that I’m only in my 50s and I have decades of building on the life experiences I am gaining from living with someone who has dementia–someone who is losing more than me–yet is surrendering to his reality.

I went for a run along our country road and it was full of surprises. There is an abundance of wildlife in our area but it seemed more acute today. The list of birds is like opening the Audobon bird book. I saw a pair of western tanagers chasing each other, a group of cedar waxwings eating dogwood berries, juncos on the side of the road, yellow warblers in the bushes, and townsend solitaire with her young. There were brewer’s and red-wing blackbirds, male northern oriole feeding 2 of his youngsters (I’ve never seen a male bird feed their young), winter wrens singing their long song. Did you know that winter wrens are the smallest birds with the longest song. Eagles flying overhead teaching their young one how to fly and more bird sounds in the forest that I couldn’t identify.

I passed by a field of llamas munching on grass as their lower jaw slide sideways and then circle around. Snakes hiding in the tall grasses bordering the creek that flows gently along the side of the road. Even the horses were having a lazy day as they basked in the fields with the sun peeking in and out on this crisp summer day. A crisp 13 degrees Celsius–far below our typical 30 degrees.

It was a glorious run–no human-made sounds.

If I had decided to ride my bike instead of run I would have missed all of these sights and sounds. The pace would have been too fast and the wind rushing by my helmet would have blocked out many of these natural sounds.

Bike riding versus running/walking is a metaphor for my life: frenetic versus calm and peaceful.

Three years when I woke up to the reality of my husband’s dementia and stopped fighting it, I began to slow down enough to see the abundance that was all around me–life lessons in patience and surrendering to what is, healthy children, a beautiful home. Before then I was too busy to notice anything because I was ‘riding’ away from the pain of the losses and changes in my life.

Over the past few years it has been a conscious effort to slow down and really smell the roses. It is healthy and necessary for me to face my dark side (sadness and anger) as much as my light side. It’s all part of who I am and it’s part of loving all of me.

This past month has been crazy busy and I reached my upper emotional and mental limit 3 times. When I lose my balance I have physical reminders–a chest cold, eye infection or fatigue. Dr. Bruce Lipton, a biochemist, has proven that over 85% of our physical illnesses have an emotional root cause.  I guess it won’t surprise you that I am recovering from a cold and a cough.

So reading my note from July 21st is a wonderful reminder of how life feels when I take the time to slow down, bend over and really smell the roses. Time to get back to my morning meditations, saying no to projects that completely fill my schedule, and time to bring out the knitting needles and cross stitching to spend more time with my feet up enjoying the company of my husband.

Note: If you have an experience of reaching your upper limits and what you did to regain your balance I would love to hear from you.